


Tie the knot

by frozenpapers



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, just realized it's quite festive, so much fluff like when does it end, those 5 + 1 things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-12 23:30:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12970800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenpapers/pseuds/frozenpapers
Summary: The five times Hopper asked Joyce to marry him as a joke, and that one time she asked him.





	Tie the knot

**Author's Note:**

> Just teeth rotting fluff, tbh.

**1.**

 

            The shrill of a phone knifed through the silence, almost deafening, breaking the atmosphere of tranquility in the middle of the night, stirring worry in the surface, enough to jolt her awake. Brown irises blinked up at the ceiling, and then at the digital clock glaring red beside her, digits of two and three alarmingly informing her how deep in the night it had been – two in the morning.

            Nothing ever good came after two in the morning – that was what her mother used to tell her, and one she had learned through several experiences in the midst of a marriage that had been a far opposite of sweet.

            Immediately, socked feet had been casted to the side, soles hitting carpeted floor as she dashed out of the room with a practiced finesse that wouldn’t perturb anyone else. On the fifth ring, she had retrieved the phone from the receiver, fingers clutched around it, knuckles white as she had anticipated what would come next after _hello_.

            Hopper’s voice filtered through – filled with manic and sleep, guttural, almost incomprehensible. She could hear the intake of a breath, could practically see his blue irises darting from side to side as he would ran a hand through thinning blond hair.

            “One at a time,” like speaking to her children who’d been in the midst of a rush thanks to overwhelming feelings either caused by excitement or fear. Joyce’s voice had been soft, filled with a mother’s patience.

            She could hear another sigh, and then a clear of a throat, a mumble of an apology and a statement that he felt ridiculous for even acting the way he was. “It’s Jane; she’s bleeding.”

            And now, it was Joyce’s turn to be frozen in a wave of panic, as bitterness overcame her palate, fear flooding through her. But, before she could spiral further into the terrifying pit of horror and anxiety, he was speaking again.

            “ _God_ , Hop, you scared me.” She exclaimed, hand against heart as she steadied her breathing, head shaking. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

 

* * *

 

            She’d spent thirty minutes in the grocery store purchasing everything a flowering girl may need – various selections of tampons and pads, a few treats, and pain reliever – and then spent fifteen trying to work her way to the cabin. It was exceptionally dark, and the roads had been slippery – this being the start of December and all its snow. She’d missed a few turns, and managed to skid closer to a ditch somewhere in between when she was trying to switch from the main roads in favor of the path that led deep within the overshadowing forestry. It had only been her headlights that had illuminated every turn that looked exactly the same, with Hopper’s cabin the beacon at the end of it, which did little to help.

            Before she could even clamber out of her Pinto, he was already racing towards her – a big figure lumbering towards piled snow in nothing but a white undershirt and thin pajamas, clear panic and slight humiliation painted amongst features subjected often in a scowl.

            “I could have done it myself, but I…” He trailed off, running a hand against his mouth then over his face.

            Joyce nodded in understanding, placing a hand on his shoulder once she was out of the car and giving it a squeeze to offer comfort. She smiled softly. “It’s fine.”

            Because it was _really_. Hopper had been there for her and her sons when she needed him the most. She figured, it was time she returned the favor, and not because she was obliged to do so, but by the fact that she wanted to ease out a few of his worries that crowded and weighed him down. She didn’t want him to go through with all of this alone.

            “Thank you for this.” He had stated, glancing at her with eyes soft and filled with relief – it had made her smile wider as they wound up by his porch, his hand resting above the knob of the door.

 

* * *

 

            Jane retreated back in her room, looking less frightened as she had when she had been woken up by sticky vermillion dribbling down the length of her thighs. The door closed with a gentler shut than when she had slammed the bathroom door earlier, and Hopper found himself releasing a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding. Joyce emerged from the hallway right after, a tired smile against her face as she glanced at Jim by the couch with relaxed shoulders, and less tensed features.

            “She’s all yours.” She had stated as she paused to lean against the table, eyes of piercing brown now dangerously drooping thanks to the drowsiness that was slowly taking her captive. A yawn threatened to escape her lips, one she had tried to contain with a palm of her hand.

            Jim rose to his full height. “Thank you for this. I wouldn’t know what I would have done without you.”

            She waved him off. “I’m sure you would have done just fine.”

            “Yeah, but it would have been messy. And, I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t even listen to me.” He had spoken, shoulders being raised in a shrug. “Could you just marry me to make things a little easier?”

            Joyce chuckled, and rolled her eyes at him. “So – _what_ – you don’t have to worry about talking to her about the birds and the bees? _Not a chance_.”

            “You mean, you haven’t talked to her about that?” He asked, tone hinted with horror, but there was mirth within the blue of his irises.

            She shook her head. “I didn’t elaborate much on it, thought I’d give you the honor.” A snort had escaped her at the look Hopper had given her. He was about to say something when she had opened the door, easily slipping half her body out. “Good night, Hop.”

            “Good night, Joyce.”

 

**2.**

 

            “I could marry you right now.”

            “Don’t be dramatic. It’s just coffee.”

            He had been knee deep in paperwork for the past few hours when Joyce had come in with two cups of coffee in both small hands. The holidays had always been an invitation to petty crimes being done here and there. He wasn’t sure what had prompted teenagers _and_ adults to participate in the mischief, but he was sure that he was getting tired of it (his protesting back and the kink on his neck clear proof of such).

            “If it hadn’t been for you, I would have died.”

            Joyce rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Flo could have prevented you from _that_.”

            Hopper had shaken his head. “No, she couldn’t have. The woman unplugged the coffee machine, claiming I need to cut back.”

            “Must have driven you insane.” She smirked as she had taken a sip, leaning her back against the stiff chair she had occupied long ago when she had been here, talking to him about Will’s disappearance.

            “You have no idea.” He glanced at her fondly, sharing her gaze with a small flit at the corners of his lips before he drank his share of caffeine.

 

 

**3.**

 

            He was kneeling in front of her when she turned away from the sink. There was a grin plastered on his features – a shit eating grin that had matched the ridiculousness of the scene unfolding right in front of her. He was holding a small piece of wreath with its ends tied to one another as a makeshift ring.

            “Joyce Horowitz – “

            “ – Hop, get off the floor.” There was smile on her face, chin placed against her knuckles as she leaned against the countertop, trying to manage a look of displeasure and failing.

            “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

            “Remind me to lower the dose of the cough syrup.” She had stated as she reached to steady him when she caught him wavering dangerously to the side. Hands placed on both sides of his shoulders, Joyce gave him a look. “Come on, big boy, get up. We need to break that fever.”

            “You haven’t answered my question, yet.”

            “I will when you get up.”

            And so he did, in a motion too fast enough to almost send him back on his ass. Assisting him with a hand, she had directed him back to his bedroom, intending to put him back to sleep like he had been before he had caught her by surprise. Sitting him on the edge of the mattress, she touched his forehead with the back of her hand and made a sound of disapproval when she had felt it scalding.

            “I told you to stay in bed.” She said as she had taken the glass of water by his bedside and had handed it to him to drink.

            Fingers enclosing against the glass, Hopper did his best to drink, eventually managing to wet his shirt by a dribble, causing Joyce to shake her head.

            “Go back to sleep. You need rest.”

            She waited for him to oblige – a man in his forties grumbling about excessive sleeping and feeling energetic enough to go to work – before she had rounded up the bed to pull the thick covers over him, tucking him in like she would with Jane and Will.

            “I’m going to the kitchen and finish washing the dishes, if you need me, just shout. Do not stand up.”

So, Jane hadn’t been kidding when she had called Joyce earlier to assist her dad. Over the phone call, she could recall hearing a few arguments that had been in close relation to one of the few things she had with Hopper in the few hours she was over to take care of him. He was exceptionally stubborn, and the cough syrup had an effect on him that she had found slightly annoying, but mostly humorous. Jim Hopper was a resilient man, but when he was sick, he had the disposition of a baby.

“Joyce,” she heard him say before she could even make an exit, promptly turning around with an expectant look in her eye. “Lie next to me?” And before she could even protest, he added, “please?”

Without a word, she obliged, not having the heart to deny him, especially with _that_ look he had fixed her. Strong arms had been wrapped around her petite frame, the heat of his fever radiating off of him. Joyce allowed herself to be swallowed by him as he rested his head in the crook of her neck. It wasn’t long before she had felt his breathing even out, but before she could wriggle herself free to clean the cabin, she heard him whisper in the tiniest and roughest voice,

“Marry me, Joyce.”

 

 

**4.**

 

                 She had been waiting for Will when Hopper ushered her into the clearing, underneath the stairwell where they shared cigarettes between fifth and sixth period.

                 “Brings you back doesn’t it?” He asked her, cigarette dangling between his forefinger and middle, smoke streaming at the end of it, obscuring his features from her.

                 She had taken the stick, inhaled and then coughed, that had been followed by a small, short laugh. “Yeah,”

 

>                  _“We should get married.” He said out of the blue, irises of sapphirine finding hers. He was almost smiling, but she could tell there was a sense of seriousness within it, within the stature he was at._
> 
> _Joyce had taken a drag of the cigarette he had been previously holding, gaze directed ahead of them, onto the parking lot littered with vehicles alone._
> 
> _“Get out of here. Pursue our dreams.” He added. “Get married.” He stated again, boring his eyes into her when she looked at him with an inquiring look._
> 
> _She handed him the stick. “You’re joking, right?”_
> 
> _If he was wounded by the question, he didn’t show it. “Of course,”_

  

               “Are we even allowed to smoke here?” She asked with a tilt of her head, waving off the memory of the night when she told him about Lonnie.

                 “Well, I remember Mister Cooper retiring in the seventies.”

 

 

**5.**

 

                 He plopped the Santa hat on her head. “Be my Mrs. Claus.”

                 She pushed it up, allowing her to visibly raise a brow at him. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

                 He grinned at her. “Maybe.”

                 “You look ridiculous.” She had stated as she assessed him for the first time. He was in full costume – brightly red and festive, trying to bat away whatever irritation he felt with the whole get up.

                 “And so will you. Suit up.” He had spoken, pushing the rest of the costume into her small hands. “Or else Flo will have my ass.”

 

 

**\+ 1.**

 

                 She wasn’t sure how it happened, whether it had been that small kiss shared because of the mistletoe Jane and Will had placed on the door or the movie they had been watching when the kids retired to bed that had prompted _this_. All she was certain of was the fact that she was having sex with Jim Hopper on Christmas while their kids slept soundly in the rooms next to hers.

                 Leg hooked on his shoulder, Joyce fully open for him as he seated himself inside of her time and time again, a dizzying pace compared to how it had started. Labored breathing carried through the silence, even as they did their best to keep it to themselves lest they unknowingly rouse someone.

                 Jim held her with all the gentleness he could muster, face rested at the crook of her neck, kisses peppered causing her to sigh and melt against him. She could feel white heat pool below her stomach as he pressed his thumb against her clit, flicking at it just as he would enter her. Back arching, toes curling, Joyce brought both of her hands to the sides of his face and crushed her lips against his to muffle her cry of ecstasy, walls clenching around his hardened length before letting go. He followed a few thrusts after, body slumped against hers, silence once again sailing as they regained their breathing, heart finally going back to its normal pacing.

                 Joyce had succumbed herself in the exhaustion their lovemaking had left, letting her eyes close just as Hopper had moved to settle beside her. She would have protested if only he hadn’t made up for the absence by tucking her safe and warm in his arms. It wasn’t a few hours after she had woken up to blue irises staring at her in contemplation, and what she could plainly see as something beyond adoration.

                 She placed a hand on his jaw, moving to kiss him softly before she had pulled away to settle a few inches apart from him so she could share his gaze. Running her fingers through his blond hair, Joyce smiled up at Hopper, who seemed to be cautious about this whole affair.

                 “Marry me.” This time, it was her voice she had heard, and not his. A statement made out of impulse, drunken in the haze of the moment, in the love that she had realized she had held for him for so long. He smiled at her, one that was close to be broken by a chuckle, when she had schooled her features to that of seriousness to convey her intent. “ _Marry me, Jim_.” She enunciated each word to tell him what she wanted, to tell him it wasn’t stated as a joke.

                 He blinked up at her, brows forming a furrow as he visibly processed what she had just stated. All the while, she had held her breath, a sense of coldness enveloping her as the seconds had stretched on, and indicated that she shouldn’t have said that, that she had read him wrong.

                 She was about to recoil, about to gather the sheets to cover herself, for decency and humiliation’s sake when he had gathered her close to him, and pressed a kiss on her forehead. “Buy a guy dinner first.” He quipped, suddenly chuckling, but it wasn’t mockery she heard, but euphoria within it. “Thought I had to be the one to ask you, but yes, of course.”

                 She wound her arms around him, tilting her head, chin resting against his chest as she smiled up at him. “I love you.”

                 “I love you, too.”


End file.
